Individualistic Monsters
by Siluial
Summary: [GaaraSakura] He's not so much of an enemy anymore. (COMPLETE)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Written for a Fanfic no Jutsu livejournal community challenge. It's fairly short; I'm aiming for the four to six (give or take) chapter range, because I didn't want something long, but I didn't want to end up writing another one-shot, either. The criterion were extrememly lenient - Gaara/Sakura pairing, R - NC-17, and any plot. Any writer's dream challenge._

_I tried putting more dialogue in this, contrasting the mostly desciptive Itachi/Sakura fic I've got going. I wanted to be able to delve into Gaara and give him some real character, instead of making him the 'silent-I-have-a-stick-up-my-ass' kind of guy I know he somewhat is._

_Here we go... _

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* * *

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**Individualistic Monsters**

* * *

"You need to be more careful, Kankuro-san," she chided gently, holding his left arm and inspecting the damage. 

The Sand-nin grumbled and twirled the fingers of his free hand in a gesture that told her to get on with it.

She puckered her lips and twitched her nose slightly to the side, eyes running along his now malformed shoulder. It was quite obviously dislocated, and she saw no other option than popping it back into the socket. Chakra could only help repair once the bones were properly situated.

Tucking her pink hair behind her ears, Sakura rolled up the sleeves of her medic coat. "I won't count to three for you, since you're too old for that," she saw the roll of his eyes, "but in a few moments I'm going to pop the bone back into place. It's going to hurt quite a bit."

He tugged off the glove on his right hand and placed it between his teeth, taking a steadying breath. He nodded, and Sakura took up his arm once again.

Without preamble, she pulled the arm straight out, then in the direction of the shoulder joint. Kanukuro's eyes snapped shut, and she could see his jaw clench, teeth most likely making lasting marks in the leather of the glove. There! The arm popped into place, ball shape on the end fitting snugly into the socket shape of the shoulder.

Her hands released him and flared blue with chakra, flowing smoothly into his shoulder when she rested her palms on his skin. Concentrating, she drew the pain slowly from him and into herself, using the fastest method possible to make him comfortable. An unpleasant throbbing started up in her own shoulder, but she ignored it and set her mind to completing the healing.

"Done," she proclaimed happily, wiping sweat from her face with a sleeve. "How do you feel?"

Kankuro stood, rotating the shoulder experimentally. "Better than I did before I dislocated the damn thing." She supposed that was as close to a thanks or compliment that anyone could get from the puppet master.

"C'mon. I'll take you to the nurse's station on this floor. You're team's there, and I can sign you out."

Temari was draped lazily on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, one leg crossed over the other, foot gently jiggling to some tune in her head. Her chin was perched in the upraised palm of her hand.

"All finished," called a woman's voice to the right, where Kankuro and Sakura emerged. Kankuro drifted over to his blond teammate while the medic handed off the chart with her signature to the nurse behind the desk. She came up to the Sand shinobi and offered them a warm smile.

"Thanks," she spoke, rising and readjusting the huge fan on her back.

"No problem," replied Sakura, "Just make sure to stay away from Naruto and the training grounds in the future, ok?" Her last comment was directed at Kankuro, humor in her voice.

"Sakura-san! We need you downstairs, now!" A nurse pelted into the waiting area, bloody scrubs fluttering.

"Right." She turned to follow the nurse. "See you guys around," she tossed over her shoulder as she went.

She heard their replies as she made her way to the elevator, yet she was oblivious to the pair of vivid jade eyes that followed her.

* * *

The dusk hung on the horizon, sun's very bottom touching the mountains in the distance. Sakura, having changed her dirty hospital clothing for loose training gear, ambled her way down Konoha's still bustling streets, greeting those she knew, picking her way around food carts and passerby. 

She met Neji along the way, and due to the large amounts of time they had spent on missions together, moved towards the practice fields, conversing pleasantly. He had certainly loosened up as he had grown, and Sakura found that she greatly enjoyed time spent with him. His quiet demeanor wasn't so intimidating; even when silent he radiated warmth. His dry and somewhat sarcastic sense of humor took some people a little time to get used to, but she had adapted instantly, and their banter was always in jest.

"Ok, I learned this new jutsu from Kakashi-sensei on the last mission we were on," she spoke while dropping her supplies under a tree. Neji did the same, removing the light coat he had been wearing. "I'm sure if I use it on you you'll be fine. There's no brain for me to addle up in that empty head of yours."

He took up a position some feet from her. "You can't touch me, Haruno," he smirked.

"We'll see."

Battered, the two dropped to the grass sometime later, the last rays of the sun washing across their sweaty faces. Taking a huge swig from her water bottle, she noticed her didn't have one, and offered hers. He took it with a breathy thanks.

As Sakura watched the grass blowing the light breeze, she remembered a time when she wouldn't have dared share her water bottle with anyone. It would have been an indirect kiss, after all. An amused smile graced her face. Oh, how the quirks of childhood faded in the face of maturity.

"Want to go to the Ichiraku or something? I haven't eaten since this morning."

He wiped his mouth. "Can't. Hiashi needs me at the house for something, and I've got to pack for my mission in two days." He stood, handed her the bottle. "But I'll walk you there. It's on the way, right?"

Neji had just bid her goodnight in front of the ramen shop when Naruto burst out. "Hey, Sakura-chan!" Nineteen years old and he was still as noisy as ever. "You comin' in to eat?"

"Yeah," she trotted up to him. "I know you wouldn't say no to another bowl. My treat?"

"Nah, I'll hafta take a rain check on that one. Me an' Hinata-chan are goin' on a date in a little while." He raised his arms and crossed them behind his head, smiling. Sakura couldn't help but smile with him. How like Naruto to stuff himself full of ramen, then have the capacity to go out to dinner right afterward.

She saw him off with a cheerful wave and a friendly farewell. Entering the Ichiraku alone, the owner looked up and smiled. "The usual, Sakura-san?"

"Yeah, Ossan," she replied, sidling up to the counter and sitting there, instead of at a table. She looked about. The restaurant was unusually empty for the time of day, with only a few ninja and civilians littering the interior. She glanced to the side and noticed someone sitting at the far end of the counter, against the wall.

"Evening, Gaara-san," she called over, watching as his head perked up and his light eyes fixed on her. "Mind if I come over and keep you company?" He made no protest, so she hopped off her stool and took up the empty seat next to him. She eyed his half-eaten bowl.

"Number 5 special, too, huh? My favorite," she commented absently, watching Ossan approach with her steaming dinner. She vaguely registered his responding grunt.

She chewed a mouthful of noodles thoughtfully, turning her eyes to the quiet Sand-nin at her side. He spent a great deal more time traveling between the Fire andWind countries than did his brother and sister, so it was a rare treat to see him. He had changed over the past seven years. His hair was still the same cherry wood dark red color, only a little longer; his eyes were still ringed in black, but sharper. The kanji upon his forehead was partially shrouded by his short bangs. He had sprouted like a bean, shooting up until he was almost an entire head taller than she, and his body had toned and lost all baby fat. His face wasn't rounded any longer; it was sharper, older looking.

Alterations in his physical appearance were totally overshadowed by his personality's growth. He wasn't nearly as volatile and violent as he was in their younger days. As far as she knew, he still shied away from physical contact, preferring to keep a slight distance. However, he could be somewhat pleasant when he wanted to be, according to Naruto, who had accompanied him to the Sand village once for a mission.

Truth be told, Sakura quite enjoyed his quiet andreserved, if not cold,nature. Whenever she had occasion to speak with him, he was always polite,abit more than a little aloof, but she didn't mind. She knew he had a quite a nasty temper, and had been on the recieving end of his angry attentions once before. She tread carefully about him, finding it not too difficult to know what would set him off.

"How long are you going to be in the village, Gaara-san?" She prodded at a floating shrimp in her bowl.

He swallowed what he had been chewing, and, eyes fixed on some point behind the counter, replied, "A while, I should think."

Sakura grinned slightly. He never really spoke more than a handful of words at a time, unless he was giving a report. She polished off her ramen and stood, dropping a crumpled bill onto the countertop. Gathering up her bag of training items, she turned back to her quiet dinner partner.

"I've got late-night shifts at the hospital for the next week, so Naruto and I are going to be training during the day. If you're not too busy, you should come and join us." She flashed a friendly smile, bid him goodnight, then made her way home.

* * *

Sakura woke to the sounds of someone banging on her apartment door. Sleepily she rolled over, attempting to ignore it, relieved when it stopped. She began to doze lightly. 

Which was why she was totally unprepared for Naruto's rude entrance. He came crashing through her bedroom door, knocking it open so violently that it rebounded against the wall behind it with a loud bang.

Sakura shot out of bed, tumbled to the floor, wrapped up in the bed linens, letting out a stream of highly unladylike words. Naruto laughed madly as she fought her way from the cotton trap, pink head popping from the white material. A well-aimed pillow to the face merely served as a momentary halt to his chuckles.

"Jeez, Naruto! There are better ways of waking people, you know," she grumbled, standing up and tossing the sheets back onto the bed. Scratching at her messy hair, she yawned and surveyed her blond companion. He was tossing pillows back onto her bed. "And what if I slept naked? That would teach you not to barge into other people's homes uninvited."

He gave her a cheeky grin. "Not at all. It would only encourage the habit."

She glared. "I don't think Hinata would appreciate that."

He sobered immediately. "You win, for now. Go shower, I'll make ya some coffee. You're a complete grouch in the mornings, you know that?"

She waved him good morning with one finger in particular as he retreated from the room.

Two mugs of coffee later saw her in much better spirits. As Naruto stretched out a little ways from her, she brushed her hair behind her ears, only regretting slightly that it was too short to be put into a ponytail. She'd kept it pretty much the same length since the chuunin exams, finding short hair easier to maintain than long.

Tugging out wrist and ankle weights from her bag, she strapped them on. Lee had suggested she start using them; she'd grown a little out of shape in recent months because all the time she spent in the hospital kept her away from missions and a decent enough amount of training time.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah," she responded, something tugging at the back of her mind. "Oh, I just remembered," she spoke again as she came at Naruto, dodging his punch and trying to get one of her own in.

"What?" He ducked her blow and swept her feet out from under her.

Springing to her feet before he could pin her down, she darted behind him, changing directions as one of his shadow clones suddenly appeared. "I invited Gaara to train with us, if he isn't too busy while he's here."

"You think he'll show?"

"Dunno." She completed a tricky taijutsu maneuver Lee had showed her the week before, effortlessly knocking Naruto to the ground.

She was a little disappointed when it was nightfall and the redheaded Sand-nin hadn't joined them.

* * *

_EDIT: I went back and made some corrections to mistakes that were pointed out. If you noticed them, I'm sorry. Been a while since I read the manga, and small details always escape me. _

_I know that things may seem odd to strictly canon people. Remember that this is only an experiment - I've never written Gaara before. I'm hoping to improve though this. Be gentle, eh?_

_Constructive criticism is never hated. Drop me a line if you find something particularily icky._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Did something really dumb today. I was out on the front porch, shaking out the mat I keep under the cat's litter box. I ended up getting locked out. My keys were on the table, and my cell phone wasn't on my person. Oh, can we say, damn? I won't bore you with the rest of the story. Suffice to say, after a call on a neighbor's phone, about a half hour in the snow, somebody came with spare keys.  
_

_It was really cold outside, too. :(_

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* * *

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It was nearing the end of the week before Sakura saw even a trace of Gaara. Of course, that didn't mean that he hadn't been there, on the training grounds, watching her and Naruto. And if asked, Gaara would have denied any and all idea that he hung back because he was a trifle…_embarrassed _to have been invited to train by some pretty girl. He would have defended the notion that he was merely watching Naruto, trying to get the upper hand and know the blonde's techniques before attempting to spar with him.

Sometime around noon Naruto left his companion, explaining about something or another he had to do. Gaara, who had been preparing to drop from his tree and join the two at last, paused. He would have been comfortable with Naruto there, someone he knew a little better, and someone he could spar with and not hold back. However, this girl; he could hurt her – as far as his knowledge went, she didn't have any demons sealed inside her or any blood limit to fall back on. She might be strong by normal standards, but she wouldn't be up to his level.

Sakura turned in his direction sharply, eyes scanning the foliage. She waved him over when she spotted him.

_Damn. I didn't subdue my chi; of course she could find me._ Knowing there was no way to slip away now that she had noticed him, he allowed the sand to swirl around him and transport him to the ground.

Her eyes followed him as he made his way towards her, seeing her smile when he was still some distance away.

"Hey," she greeted when he finally arrived, "Glad you could finally join in the fun."

"I've been busy."

She nodded, then gestured to the open, grassy area about them. "Naruto had to go, so that leaves just you and me. No else is here, so we've got the whole field to ourselves."

_That's what I was afraid of,_ thought the redhead absently. She fell silent, and he realized she was waiting for an answer. He shifted from one foot to another. "What should we work on?"

She had an answer prepared. "Well…is there any way we could work on taijutsu? I'm a bit clumsy in that area, but if you can't because of the sand…then - "

"No, it's alright," he reassured her, unbuckling the heavy sand-filled gourd from his back. "I've learned to control when the sand reacts and when it doesn't."

She made a noise of acknowledgement, launching herself towards him, making a beeline right for his midsection. He caught her leg mid-swing, holding it in an attempt to knock her off balance. She, in turn, used her momentum to flip backward and bring the back of her free foot to catch his jaw, adding extra force to the blow by propping herself up on her hands.

Gaara managed to move backward and out of the way just before her foot would have clipped him. He watched her as her now free foot followed through with the other one, arching over her head and flipping her. She was faster than he had originally given her credit for, but still not fast enough for his tastes. It felt wrong to him to hold back, but he endured.

He didn't give her a moment to catch her breath, swooping in smoothly, engaging her in a rough match of hand-to-hand moves, trying to distract her long enough to get under her guard.

As the afternoon passed by in a wave of heat, he finally got his chance. Waiting until he had both her hands busy, he cocked his foot and slipped it behind hers, hooking their ankles together and jerking her leg out from under her. She wavered precariously on the edge of her balance for a moment or two before dropping onto her bottom with a thud.

Gasping, she managed a sly smile as he towered over her. In a flash, she repeated the same trick on him, and before he could react, he was on his butt facing her. She was laughing between deep breaths, obviously amused that the both of them could have been defeated by such a simple prankster's maneuver.

"I went down first; you win," she conceded, standing and dusting herself off. She held out a hand to him, but he pretended to not see it and got up on his own. She dropped her hand. _I forgot. He doesn't really like to be touched._

"Well," she spoke at length, "I've got to get going. I _really_ need a shower, then I've gotta head to work." She gathered up her belongings, unstrapped the weights from her wrists and ankles and tossed them in her bag. Heaving a gentle sigh to even out her breathing, she turned back to the red haired shinobi. "Thanks. You put up a real challenge, unlike Naruto. Maybe I'll see you again?"

She turned and walked away; he wasn't going to answer, and she knew it.

* * *

He did indeed come back, regardless of his silence after the first training session. He showed up when Naruto was still around, secretly enjoying the noisy blonde's competition. 

The girl was proving to be a bit of a distraction. When he wasn't sparring with her, he found himself casting furtive glances in her direction. She'd be sitting under a tree while he and Naruto fought, and inexplicably his eyes would be drawn to her, watching her pink hair flutter in the breeze or her emerald eyes as they shimmered from the sun.

Maybe it was due to his limited knowledge of the opposite sex that caused his curiousness. He didn't really want to think about it. His mind found a loophole in that reasoning. He thought about _her_, instead of _it_. Frequently.

The week finally passed, and she went back to her daytime work schedule. She assured him, that if he were still around in another week, she'd be having a vacation, so he'd be more than welcome to spend time with her again.

_To _train he corrected himself almost irately. The summertime heat must have been messing with his train of thought, he finally concluded.

Sakura tapped a pen thoughtfully against her lower lip, eyes drifting from the clipboard resting against her upraised knees to the bright day outside. That was why she preferred the nighttime shifts during the summer. She was missing out on some of the best weather of the season.

Huffing, she turned in the armchair until her legs were draped over the back and her head hung upside-down from the seat. Her pink hair stood on end and brushed the floor.

"Hardworking, my ass," came a voice from the doorway.

Sakura dropped the clipboard in surprise, eyes falling on a pair of high-heeled sandaled feet. She scrambled to sit upright. "I'm on a break," she complained. Tsunade dropped into a chair opposite her with a sigh.

"So, what's new?"

If Sakura was confused by the question, she didn't show it. She'd just seen her teacher a few days ago… "Nothing. Been working."

"Oh?" One blonde eyebrow raised. "Well then, what's this I hear about your meetings with a certain red-haired Sand-nin?"

Sakura fired back immediately. "Why do you make that sound like something dirty?" Tsunade only smiled. "He's just been training with Naruto and I."

"Someone told me you two ate dinner together, and trained alone…" Sakura knew the older woman was just teasing her now, but she couldn't help but rise to the bait.

"_Hey_!" she snapped, "We weren't eating _together_ together. It wasn't like a – a date! And we only trained alone once, and that's because Naruto had to leave."

Tsunade smirked. Getting Sakura's hackles to rise were one of her favorite pastimes. "Relax, kiddo," she soothed, rising and heading for the door. She stopped just before exiting, looking over her shoulder playfully. "But you know, he could have gone home several days ago. I wonder what's made him decide to stay…"

Before Sakura could come up with a proper defense, the Hokage was gone. Making incoherent grouchy noises, she rolled back into her upside-down position and continued to stare at her clipboard.

* * *

She didn't see Gaara again for another month. According to Tsunade, he and his siblings had been needed at home for something, and had left quickly. She wasn't sure when they would be back. 

It was one of those summer nights where it wasn't quite cool but it wasn't hot; it was the kind of temperature that didn't make you sweat, but made you not want to do much anyway. Sakura walked along the deserted streets, enjoying the late night silence. She wasn't all that tired from her shift at the hospital, knowing she would get tomorrow – and the next entire week – off, so sleeping wasn't an issue. She could sleep all damn day if she wanted.

Kakashi was due back from a several month long mission - possibly in the next few days. Naruto was also coming back from an escort mission he had gone on a couple weeks ago. She'd have to round them up for a few evenings of catching up. It'd been a long while since the remnants of Team 7 were able to relax and spend time together.

It's be nice to be with Kakashi – since he'd been gone so long, he wouldn't know anything about the rumors that were flying. She didn't know how much longer she could defend herself. People assumed things about she and Gaara of the Sand because they knew nothing about him; she'd bet her life on it.

She nearly groaned aloud. She wouldn't be safe for long. Kakashi was quite the gossiper in his own right; he'd probably know about it the moment he came through the city's main gates.

Her train of thought brought her to a larger issue. How did she feel about Gaara, exactly? Before the rumors, she would have said she liked him well enough. He was sweet, in his own quiet way, but she didn't really see him as anything more than someone she could spend time with enjoyably. Yet even the most secure person will begin to doubt when they must constantly defend themselves.

There'd been the day that he'd asked her, in his smooth voice, to stop with the "Gaara-san". He didn't use an honorific when addressing her or Naruto or anyone else, so he didn't expect it of her. She had blushed for no reason, and thought he had smiled, corners of his lips barely lifting, but smiling all the same.

And there were times… times when she was sure that his eyes followed her every move, but when she'd turn, his face would be turned away, or his eyes adverted. Their eyes met often enough – it was rude to not look at someone when interacting with them – yet sometimes there were moments when their eyes would meet for no reason at all. Then something would spark in her, fluttering warmth would grow in her belly and face and she'd have to look away.

The breeze picked up, whipping her hair about, blocking her line of sight. She moved her hand up to brush the offending strands from her face, and she gasped as soon as she was done.

Standing before her in a patch of moonlight, was Gaara.

He wasn't facing her, but turned to the side, his face tilted up to the inky sky. His profile was visible, and she nearly cringed at how pained it looked. The wind carried the acrid, metallic smell of blood to her nose.

"Gaara…?"

He seemed to jerk out of some reverie when her soft voice spoke his name. His head whipped around, his light jade eyes meeting hers. Suddenly his hands were on her arms, forcing her backward against the building wall she had been walking along.

The position forced them face-to-face, and Sakura stilled at the wild look in his eyes, at the blood that covered his clothing. How long they remained standing there, she didn't know, but her mind worked furiously to find a way out of the situation. She decided that reasoning was her first option.

"Gaara? Are you all right? …Gaara? What happened? Whose blood is that? Tell me!" Her sharp command brought a measure of sanity to his gaze; he seemed to finally become aware of his surroundings.

"I've got to go see the Hokage." He released her, pivoting on his heel in the direction of Konoha's strongest's tower of business and residence.

"Right this moment?" Didn't he know what _time_ it was? Sakura caught his sleeve, not caring about his preferences towards contact with other beings.

"Yes," he nearly hissed, eyes bright and cold as they caught hers again.

She marched ahead of him. "Then I'll take you there. I'm her student, I know where she hides the keys."

* * *

Tsunade rubbed at her eyes blearily, robe wrapped over her sleeping clothes tightly. She eyed the two standing before her unhappily. "Ok, so you woke me up. You better have a good reason for banging on my door at this god-forsaken hour, or so help me I'll boot both your asses all the way to the ocean." 

Sakura looked over at Gaara. She hoped that what he had to say was really important. She didn't particularly feel like taking a midnight dip. Yet she knew it was bad. The blood that soaked his clothing was proof enough. He hadn't gone on a killing spree in a long, long time.

He began speaking, dragging Sakura from her thoughts and Tsunade from her lethargy.

"My siblings and I returned home, as commanded. Everything seemed normal after our arrival. A few weeks into our time there was an attempt on all three of our lives, as well as on those of our other brothers and sisters. It was a step in a major coup that's been brewing underground for quite some time. A great deal of both civilian and shinobi blood was shed, and I'm not sure who survived and who didn't. Temari and Kankuro and I were all separated at some point. I've no idea of their current state or location."

He continued to recount the tale with vivid clarity, not leaving out details to spare the women's imaginations. Tsunade dropped into the chair behind her desk at some point, laced her fingers and rested her forehead against them. Sakura stood rooted to her spot, suddenly not too sure if she had wanted to escort Gaara to the Hokage's Tower and find out what was so horribly wrong. Gaara continued on, staring at the wall, the reek of blood rolling off him in waves.

"I don't even know if the overthrow was successful. All I know is the ringleader; the man who made it all possible."

His next sentence struck hard.

"Apparently, Orochimaru wasn't as gone as we all thought."

Barely an hour later, Tsunade had requested that Gaara situate himself in the apartment he inhabited when staying in Konoha, and sent a team of ANBU to surround the area. Not for his protection – he was more than able to take care of himself – but to make sure that, if Sand-nin showed up to finish what they started, Gaara wouldn't slaughter them all. Tsunade needed informants, and it would be easier to use the enemy rather than contact any of her own ninja stationed in Sand. They were probably busy enough as it was.

Sakura stayed through the early morning hours with her blond teacher, sketching out a rough plan of action. She listed which staff of the hospital was trained in fieldwork, offering to lead a small group of medic-nin along with the handful of elite shinobi that would be tracking back to Sand.

The sun was well into the sky when Sakura finally stumbled out of the Hokage's office. Bleary-eyed and yawning, she ran tired fingers through her hair, opting to transport herself in a swirl of smoke rather than walk the way to her apartment. She tumbled into her bedroom and kicked off her shoes, falling onto the bed and glancing at the clock. Groaning, she rolled over.

She glanced out her window and did a double take. Gaara was sitting on the roof of the building across the alleyway, dangling his legs over the edge, elbows propped on his knees. His eyes were closed, and the lids looked like smudges of coal from the distance she viewed him at.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she unlatched and opened her window. "Hey," she called tiredly across the way. The noise of the city seemed so far away, and her strained voice carried easily. "You alright?"

He looked up, eyes opening and settling on her. She thought he nodded faintly. "Just…thinking," he answered after a long while.

Sakura took a deep breath, cast a glance back at her bed, and changed her mind about her agenda. _The guy's country is in chaos, and he's possibly lost his siblings. It'd be real rude to leave him alone, even if he is anti-social Gaara._ She didn't even go into the Orochimaru issue. That was a painful train of thought.

"I can forgo the sleep if you want to come over for some coffee or something," she invited. "I could use a little company, myself."

He looked uneasy, and she became less confident as the minutes ticked by. _Hey, at least I offered, right?_ She hadn't expected him to stand, barely jumping back from the window before his sand was swirling there.

He stance still projected his slight discomfort, so she smiled reassuringly. "How do you like your coffee?" She began the trek to the door.

"Black." He followed slowly.

* * *

_Er...Yeah, I know. "Trifle embarassed" Gaara? Slap me, if you like, but I really don't feel like reconfiguring the sentence now. It's how I wrote it, it's how it'll stay. Such is the greatness of my sloth._

_I need a nap...  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Jesus, it was so hard to write this chapter. Normally it takes me close to six hours - I write a little, stop, watch some TV, read a little, brainstorm. Then I sit down and write for an hour straight. Process repeats. But not today - almost _ten_ hours to write five measly pages! I'm real sorry for the shortness, but I just had too much trouble sitting still to write something longer._

_Shortness is also due to the fact that I couldn't cut off the chapter anywhere else - it just had to end where it did. Next two chapters are longer, so it makes up for it, eh?  
_

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* * *

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Hatake Kakashi, ninja extraordinaire and master of one thousand jutsus, was beat. He was too tired to even read the Icha Icha book he had stashed in his back pocket. His teammates looked much the same way, all ambling along with hunched shoulders, as if the packs they carried were way too heavy.

The giant gates of Konoha loomed before his small five-man team. Genma yawned violently from somewhere to his left. Kakashi was incredibly inclined to agree. Before anyone could call up for the gate-guard's attention, the barrier swung open smoothly. He could see a familiar head of pink hair emerging.

The two groups met, and Sakura noticed her old teacher. "Ah, Kakashi-sensei!" She hugged him, and he returned the embrace happily, visible eye curving into a smile. She eventually drew back, and his eyes scanned the group of shinobi she was with. There were a few jounin he recognized, as well as a smattering of ANBU, though they were dressed like normal ninja.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I've gotta head out immediately." She hefted a canvas pack, her voice drawing his attention from one redheaded shinobi in particular.

Kakashi caught her fingers and gave them an affectionate squeeze. "Be careful," he cautioned. "See you when you get back, yeah?"

"Sure," she smiled, and turned to leave. With a final wave, she was gone, darting through the trees with her team.

They traveled hard for several hours, strung out comfortably through the Fire Country's forests. Sakura finally called for a halt when a one of her the medics began straggling.

Panting, the entire group dropped down onto grass and logs. Gaara and a few of the ANBU appeared to be the only ones not suffering from the long trek. They stopped only long e nough to catch their breath, and didn't halt again until well after sunset.

Sakura dropped from the trees into the grass silently, signaling to the others to stop. One younger jounin rolled from his tree to the grass, laying on his back and breathing deeply. "Halt for a few hours. Eat and sleep." She moved over into a patch of moonlight and sat, rubbing at her cramping legs furiously.

She hadn't slept at all that morning, but she didn't regret it in the least. Gaara hadn't said much, but he had seemed less preoccupied when he left her to pack. She, in turn, focused on his presence, therefore managed to keep a certain Sound-nin and his apprentice from her thoughts.

She surveyed her team. Tsunade, as a reward for staying so long to help with the assembly of the mission, had given Sakura the position of team captain. It'd been a long time since she'd had that honor. It felt… odd.

She saw Shikamaru off to the side, squatting in front of a map spread out on the ground. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear, and he was scratching absently at his chin as the fingers of his free hand tracked along the paper.

The bushes behind her rustled and Akamaru came running out, jumping into her lap when he saw her. Sakura ran her fingers along his long ears and through his fur, waiting for Kiba to appear. Sure enough, he came up to her moments later. He frowned playfully at his canine partner. "You should be securing the perimeter, mutt."

Sakura smiled and gave the dog a little shove. He leapt over to Kiba and plopped down at his feet, looking up and yipping. Kiba scooped him up and set him on his shoulder, crossing his arms. He looked down at Sakura. "We're clear for now. No one around that we can smell."

"Thanks, Kiba," she replied, clapping him on the side of the leg lightly. "Now go get some sleep."

"Right." He ambled off.

She and Tsunade had assembled a top-notch team. Shikamaru was the strategizer, Kiba and Akamaru the scouts. There were several highly trained field medics ranging from chuunin to elite, and several ANBU who were specialized in infiltration. Nowhere near enough to stop an uprising, but enough to sneak into the city unnoticed and do a little damage control.

Plus, there was Gaara. He was a formidable force all on his own.

She wasn't sure when she drifted off, but someone was shaking her awake. "Sakura-san? Hey, time to get moving."

She opened her eyes to the face of the youngest medic. "I'm up, I'm up," she replied hastily, wiping her eyes and standing. Her legs screamed, tingling fire racing through them. She grit her teeth and ignored it.

She signaled with a jerk of her hand, and the team moved out.

* * *

Many shinobi develop the ability to sleep while they move, slipping into a semi-conscious state to preserve energy and make up for lost sleep. Oftentimes, they will set up a web of chakra about themselves and the immediate area to keep track of their companions or to be alerted should strangers approach. 

Sakura had worked on her stamina for years, and she was proud to say that she could usually get by on a rough mission without needing to use aforementioned technique. Regardless, she found herself slipping in and out of sleep.

Furiously, she scrubbed at her face as her numb legs propelled her off the ground. She was just tiring herself out more by sleeping, for each bout of darkness only brought about chilling visions that tumbled about her mind. Had she been lying down in bed, she would have tossed and turned violently.

Every time her eyes slipped shut, a pale visage framed with dark hair and even darker markings swam into her vision. The hissing laughter of a man echoed in her brain like a tune she couldn't quite recall.

Tugging in a shuddering breath, she looked about in the dawn's light and saw that most of her team was doing what she had been failing at. Shikamaru's chin was tucked into his chest; Akamaru came dangerously close to slipping out of Kiba's hood. Higemaru, the sandy-haired jounin medic that had woken her earlier, snored infrequently at her right. One of the ANBU, a curly-haired tan woman, saluted loosely, flashing Sakura an exhausted smile. She had an energy bar hanging from her mouth.

There was a quiet rustling at her side, and she turned to find Gaara moving even with her pace. "How long till we're at the border?"

He looked ahead, as if seeing through the thick trees. "These will thin out soon," his arm swept out, indicating the woods, "and we'll come to the desert's edge." His pale eyes flashed up to the barely visible sky, judging time by the stars. "By sunrise, I think."

"Good," Sakura nodded. "We'll stop a few hours before then, and sleep. That's when we'll talk about how we're getting into the city." He nodded once, sharply, then moved away, picked up speed and was lost in the foliage.

After several hours of heavy sleep, the team consumed small portions of their rations and gathered around Sakura, whose head was bent close to Shikamaru's over a border map. "Ok, folks. Here's the plan." Her eyes circled the group.

"We're only about two hours from the beginning of the desert, according to Gaara. The desert isn't really all that big. If you're quick about it, you can get through in under an hour. There's bound to be a handful of people stationed there at the border, forbidding any entrance or exit. It doesn't matter if they're part of the uprising or of they're loyals, we need to get past them without incident, without them knowing. We're not supposed to go out in the open, or be known as foreigners, least of all medics and shinobi.

"Higemaru, I want you and two of the normal ANBU – Kain and Ginta – to circle around the border and enter from the side. Mika, I want you and the remaining non-medic ANBU to go around the opposite side and penetrate that way. Get past the border any way you see fit. Shikamaru, you take three of the medic-ANBU and come in from the front. I'm sure you'll be creative and effective on how you get in. Kiba, you go with the remaining medic-ANBU and come in wherever you see fit. It would take to long to send you to the only remaining side, so just make the best judgment and follow the wisest course of action.

"Let me reiterate: don't let yourselves be seen! Also, please don't kill anyone you come across unless you absolutely have to. Remember – they're still citizens of Sand. We're allies with them, and I'd like to keep it that way." She paused to gather her thoughts.

"What about when we get inside?" Kiba was holding Akamaru under one arm, hand planted on his hip, fitting the dog snugly against his side.

"Do what you can to figure out what the hell is going on. We all know that Orochimaru –" A pale face and golden eyed ringed by black flashed in her mind. She forgot to breathe.

"Sakura?" Shikamaru touched her arm.

She shook her head. "I'm all right. Tired." She took a deep breath. "Okay, we all know Orochimaru is behind this. Find out why, find out how. Find out who's working with him; who's the big shots that are running this little operation. Also, help out civilians and ninja whenever you think it's safe to do so. I brought all these healers with me for a reason.

"Be sure to keep your heads down. Only flash I.D. if you're meeting up with Konoha informants already posted in the city. We're all going to keep in contact by radio." She tossed tiny receivers that went in the ear and equally small microphones that clipped to the shirt. "If you're caught, you can destroy them. They're cheap. But if you think you've got a chance of escape, then just change the frequency and lock it with your own four-digit password.

"Last thing I'll say is this: any slips will kill you. We're dealing with one of the Legendary Three and… and his apprentice. He'll be doubly strong if he's already taken the body of said apprentice." She'd almost said _his_ name. Over the years, she'd made a mental block; it was easier if she didn't register his name as part of her vocabulary. She must have been tired, to almost slip up like that.

"What about you? How're you getting across the border?" One of the ANBU peered at her in the dark.

"Gaara and I are going off on our own. He can just use the sand to transport us in. I'm the highest-level healer here, and the team leader, so it's best that I get in the fastest. Gaara knows this place like the back of his hand, so he'll take the two of us where we need to be."

"The mission scroll didn't say anything about that."

"This is something the two of us came up with earlier this morning. I'm allowed to tweak the plans if it's for the good of the mission." Sakura scanned her group once more, surveying each of her teammates. "Are we clear on everything?" Some heads bobbed. "Good. Put your radios in, turn 'em to channel 19 and let's get this show on the road. Move out!"

In a flash, the team dissolved, leaving only Sakura and Gaara standing under the trees.

She waited a few moments, hearing the crackle of the radio as each ninja tuned in. "Cell One, reporting," came Higemaru's voice, and as each sub-team leader chimed in, Sakura confirmed, nodding to herself.

Finally, she turned to Gaara. He was waiting patiently, arms crossed. "Ready?" Was he smiling?

"Fire away," she replied, trotting up to him.

"C'mere," was all the warning she had before his arms were around her, tugging her up against his chest. He radiated comfortable warmth, and she could hear his heart thudding against her ear. "Hold onto me," he commanded softly in her ear. She slipped her arms about him, tightening them when the sand began swirling up from his feet and about them.

Had she not been overwhelmed, she would have stopped to think about how Gaara didn't like to be touched, yet it was _he_ that was standing there, holding her quite securely. As it was, the loud thumping in her chest drowned out all thought.

She tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach when his arms pulled tighter, a hand coming up between her shoulder blades. She blamed her trembling on the fact that their feet left the ground.

* * *

_Nnnrgh...Been real busy with making a Sakura/Gaara soundtrack for a LJ community. Hence my preoccupation, which resulted in the failure to load up this chapter sooner. Eheh. Sorry, guys._

_Thanks for reading. (loveslovesloves) _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Chapter rating is definately R, for Angry!Gaara's potty mouth and some heavy content. _

_One more installment to go, people! Aiyaa, but did I write this fast. Only a handful of weeks, three at the most. Other fiction has taken me _months. _Though, I'm going to go back and edit the last chapter. I really don't like how the ending came out. _

_Soundtrack for this chapter was Coheed and Cambria's "In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3" album, especially the song of the same title. It makes me think of Gaara._

_"The truth be told  
The child was born  
Man your own jackhammer  
Man you battle stations  
We'll have you dead pretty soon  
And now  
Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine  
Man your battle stations"_

_"For you,  
I'd do anything just to make you happy, hear you tell me that you're proud of me  
For them, I'd kill anything, cut the throats of babies for them, break their hearts for they were them  
Waiting for you to say: I love you too"__  
_

_Onward to the ficcage, my friends!  
_

_

* * *

_  
He watched in dispassionate silence as she moved from casualty to casualty, slipping through the cracks like smoke, flowing unseen and leaving no evidence in her wake, an evanescent force that mended broken bones and sealed gaping skin.

He let her go where she pleased for the first few hours. There was no point in just throwing themselves out in the open without having a full or solid grasp on the situation. The reports from the other groups were short, alike and far in between. The same thing everywhere: bodies, blood, frightened civilians, prowling radicals, armed to the teeth with any sort of weaponry they could acquire.

The radio in his ear crackled sharply with static, making him wince. He ripped it out and shoved it in his pocket, frowning as he noticed that the girl had gotten quite some distance from him. She had paused at the end of the small alley, crouching, head cocked as she listened to whatever transmission her teammates had to offer.

Sakura's eyes wandered along the empty street as she leaned against the sandy alley wall, elbows resting on her knees and hands dangling between them, brushing the loose gravel on the ground. She made vague swirling patterns in the sand, pursing her lips when Shikamaru finished speaking.

"Thanks, Shikamaru. Continue with what you've been doing," she replied lowly. With a final crackle, he was gone. She noticed that Gaara was standing nearby. She sighed, standing and feeling her knees pop. "Nothing. Orochimaru's as slippery of a bastard now as he ever was."

* * *

The day bled into the next, and still, nothing. Sakura continued to receive status reports from each of her sub-groups, each with the same content. She was running out of ideas as to where they could even begin. Gaara suggested that they run a quick check of the city's perimeter, and so she found herself moving quickly from boulder to boulder along a rocky cliff face. 

Sand hissed in her weapon pouch. Gaara had slipped some in, explaining tersely that it would alert him to any danger she came across a hell of a lot faster than the damn radio. She smiled slightly. He really hated that tiny thing.

She sped along for a few more moments; knowing Gaara was somewhere to the left and behind her, lower on the slope. Which was why she automatically knew it wasn't his doing when several rocks clattered down from above. She looked up and had barely enough time to dodge out of the way as a boulder landed and shattered where she would have been standing had she not pushed off into the air.

She landed on a projecting rock and pushed off, repeating the process several times until she was at the top of the rise. She hit the grassy surface with enough force to crack the stony ledge beneath her feet. Her eyes flicked every which way sharply, scanning the expanse carefully.

_There._ She locked onto an unfamiliar chakra signature. _A camouflage jutsu, huh? I can fix that easily enough…_She slipped several shuriken from her pouch. She didn't notice the sand slipping from the same location, sifting to the ground then rising with the breeze into the air.

The chakra moved from where she aimed a few shuriken; she'd known it would. Tossing a few more, she followed the path of her enemy with her eyes closed. They were useless until she could break the jutsu.

_And…now!_ The exploding tag attached to the last few shuriken she threw went off, sending her opponent into the direction she'd hoped for. In a flash, she was standing only a few feet from it, hands flying into different seals.

"KAI!" She slammed her palms together, eyes narrowed, and an image flickered before her.

A pale face and golden eyes ringed in black. Long hair like flowing ink. Fangs in his grin.

Her breath caught, and she sprung backward, watching the image fade, then seeing the air flicker once more. The jutsu fell away completely, and this time she stopped breathing entirely.

There was that face.

That unearthly, beautiful face. His ebony hair was a little longer now, the bangs a bit more unruly than she remembered. And his eyes weren't like black obsidian anymore. They practically _glowed_ red.

Nothing was said. She didn't even attempt to open her mouth; she knew nothing would come out. After all the time she's spent steeling herself against the possibility of this very event occurring at some point in her life, she couldn't move, couldn't say or do anything like she had hoped she'd be strong enough to do when the moment came.

He smiled and her insides shriveled and her mind went blank and her lungs burned because she forgot to inhale. He smiled and her eyes suddenly ached, her lips suddenly shook, her whole body trembled.

He smiled as he moved closer, each measured step sending her whirling mind into further panic. Her lips formed his name without any sound to back them up. His mouth stretched wider in its twisted mockery of a smile as he watched her conflict.

"Sakura." His voice was deep, flowing music, wrapping around her, invading her mind like a poisonous entity, dragging to the surface all the memories she kept locked away at a careful distance.

Him, bloodied and still, his chest motionless as she lay across him, weeping. Him, a deadly ball of crackling chakra in hand, flying towards her as she ran between he and Naruto. Him, attempting to look disinterested as they lured their teacher to the Ichiraku to try and get him to remove his mask.

Him, him, him, him…

Sasuke.

He stopped only inches from her, and she could smell his scent: one of the woods and the earth and the air and the world. One reeking of the countless amounts of blood he had spilled, of the decay and the decadence of every village he had massacred, of the salt from the tears of all the women and their children he had disposed of. He was enshrouded in a cloying smell that told of the years he had spent away from his homeland.

It made her want to vomit and cry and fall down and push him away all at once.

"Sakura." He was close, so close. Too close.

"_You_." She couldn't say his name. To say his name was to die; she was sure of it.

"Me," he replied, voice playing along her ears.

She finally found the will and the energy to back up a step. He followed, lips still quirked in a parody of amusement. Or maybe he was amused. She didn't know.

He made to move in even closer, smile faltering as he felt the sharp tip of a knife against his chest. He looked down at it, frowning lightly, eyes traveling along the cold steel to the slender hand and arm that held it against him.

"You've stopped trembling," he noted. His eyes rose back to hers. "Do you want to kill me?"

She shook her head, eyes crying out her reply with their wetness. Yet the knife pressed harder, point gliding easily through his shirt and up against his skin.

"Then kill me." His hand wrapped about hers, pulling the knife harder against him, breaking the skin, letting blood flow. Shuddering at the contact of his cold hand on hers, Sakura swallowed convulsively, forcing down a distressed noise in her throat.

"Kill me," he hissed, malicious grin back full force. And that's when she saw.

Saw the fangs in his grin; saw the tinge of gold in his eyes.

The knife jerked with her hand, pressing hard into his chest, drawing a gush of blood. She stumbled backwards, mouth open in horror and… revulsion?

Those gold-red eyes gleamed at her sudden understanding, fingers bringing blood to a grinning mouth for a taste. Sakura nearly heaved at the sight of that familiar, abnormally long tongue.

His eyes on her the whole time. She had to fight down the bile in her throat.

"There's been no Uchiha Sasuke in this body for a long, long time, girl." He growled… or purred? It was so hard for her straining mind to tell.

"And yet," he sighed, lowering his hand, "And yet, something in me calls out for you, the weak little teammate of long ago. Some emotion keeps me from killing you as is my want." He suddenly leered. "Something I may be so bold as to label desire, perhaps." She made a noise of some kind. "Oh, yes. You didn't know? You couldn't tell? The boy loved you, to some degree, of course, but he desired your body even more. You would have been the vessel used to repopulate the Uchiha clan, had he stayed. Sasuke always planned it to be your body he used. You would not have put up much resistance; you would have conceded easily." He relished the hurt look that snuck onto her face.

He advanced again, and she froze when his hand traced her jaw. "Such a pretty little thing," he murmured, and she knew that he meant not a single word. The hand on her jaw slipped down, tightening on her throat. She thrashed, trying to loosen his hold. "Maybe I'll concede to this body's wishes."

His fingers hit something in the muscle of her neck that made her go limp, vision blackening and flashing back on in the rapid span of a few moments. In that time, he forced her back against the rough bark of a dead tree, warm from the sun and twisted with age.

Her body barely managed a weak twitch, pain radiating from where he had tapped into a pressure point on her neck. Her loose jacket was tossed aside, her shirt unbuttoned almost all the way in the process. He touched her none too gently in a place that wasn't his to touch, popping the button on her pants completely off. No longer secured at the waist, they slipped down her legs and bunched at her bent and opened knees.

His breath was hissing, and she became aware that she was crying. His hands were so cold against her, as if the climate of the desert had no effect on his body. Time suspended for her, slowing until a breath seemed to take years, till the rustling of the grass along the rise was a snail-like grating.

Her wet face turned up to the sky, ignoring the slide of clothing as he loosened his pants. A bird flittered leisurely across the blue, wings spread wide to catch the breeze and the updraft that allowed it the luxury of flight.

And then his hands were no longer on her skin; his body was no longer against hers. Time slowly regained its natural fluency and speed. A hot, stale breeze blew up from the bowl below, the city nestled within it.

She slid down the tree trunk, legs askew as she hit the ground, back propped up by the dry wood behind her. He was just struggling to his feet two dozen or more feet away.

"You filthy little shit," growled a voice nearby. Her hear turned to the far left, to the place where she had mounted the rise. Gaara stood perched on the ledge, arm crossed, sand piled about him, slithering from where the other man was still righting himself, retracting back to its master. Gaara's eyes were hard as green glass, the black surrounding them making that glass into sharp, cutting edges. His body was tense to the point of breaking. "Get up, motherfucker."

Sakura watched through bleary eyes as the sand hit Orochimaru (_Sasuke? …No! Not Sasuke, not anymore. _It really did hurt too much to think about it) again when he failed to completely rise to his feet.

The sand slammed him again and again.

* * *

Gaara was furious. So furious, in fact, that he was forcibly restraining Shukaku so that he could enjoy shredding the shit out of the Sound-nin bastard himself. He didn't even spare a glance at the pink-haired girl by the tree; his entire attention was focused on her assailant. He was certain that the Uchiha boy was completely gone from the body; this was the evil Orochimaru of the Legendary Three entirely. 

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding, eyes narrowing. There was something off about the whole situation. Certainly one of Orochimaru's strength wouldn't just stand there and take hits one after another. Gaara knew that the man was waiting for the opportune moment, yet he threw caution to the wind for the first few moments of the fight, letting the sand do as it pleased, enjoying the sound of the hard sand impact against flesh. He was pretty sure that there was the sound of some bone or another snapping, too.

He made the sand shrink back from Orochimaru, finally allowing the man sufficient time to stand. "Gaara of the Desert. It's been too long," he spoke at length, voice mockingly cordial and friendly.

Gaara stepped away from the rocky edge and chose to say nothing. He hid his increasing anger as the pale bastard's eyes traveled away from him to Sakura, roving along her bare legs. His red-gold eyes watched her for a few moments then he turned back to his opponent, grinning rakishly. "I apologize that you had to see Sakura-chan and I… interacting."

When Gaara's sand rose once more, moving in on all sides, he evaded easily.

Luckily Gaara had relinquished conscious control of his sand. Orochimaru moved so fast that putting up a sand barrier to protect him would have been impossible had he tried to do it himself. There was a thud that trembled the whole of the sand dome about Gaara. He couldn't see through it, but he was sure that hit had done some damage. One more could quite possibly shatter the defense.

He reached for the one of the five longer-than-average knives strapped onto his sand gourd that he had begun carrying shortly after his first chuunin exam. He had realized after the fights with that Lee kid and Uchiha that his close range combat was below average, so while he trained more in taijutsu, he carried knives in case anyone ever got under his defenses like those two had. Even long after he was vastly improved and more than capable of fighting using only physical skills, he carried the blades out of habit.

Gripping the worn hilt with familiarity, he thought vaguely that this fight definitely merited its use. If Orochimaru could break through the sand so easily, Gaara was going to have to rely more on his own strength. He molded the outside of the sand dome into sharp spikes and edges, hoping to buy himself a little more time to strategize.

Orochimaru broke through the wall with a shower of sand and dust. The entire structure dropped about the two men, and the Sound-nin wasted no time moving forward, impaling the boy's stomach with a hard punch. Sand collapsed about his arm. A clone.

The sound of metal cutting the air alerted him. He caught the knife between two fingers, easily shifting it so that he held the hilt. Gaara moved in from the left, striking out while plans raced through his head. Orochimaru calmly deflected his attacks, hiding any small annoyance he felt at having been interrupted and caught in such a compromising position with the girl. His body still burned; he needed to get rid of the Sand brat and finish what he had started. He nearly grinned. The girl was weak. She'd still be there when his fight was done.

He could read a great many things from Gaara as they fought, in his eyes, his face, his movements. He had left himself completely open, emotionally speaking. It was vividly clear that Gaara of the Desert was a very different person than he was in his youth. Not so long ago he had held nothing dear, killing those who would kill him and then some. He had shed emotions like some sort of reptile shedding its skin; living without them, therefore living without their liabilities. Yet now…now, what was written across his face was as clear as day. The worry, the frustration, the guilt, the anger. Gaara had grown soft. Vulnerable.

He locked their blades together, put his face close to the boy's. "Are you…angry, Gaara? At me? At yourself? If you had come only moments later, she would have been irreversibly damaged. Does the guilt eat at you; motivate you in your struggle to kill me? Does red mist before your eyes? Do you want to see me bleed?" The boy growled, pushed harder against their knives. Orochimaru nearly smiled with malicious glee. "She tastes as sweet as a flower, Gaara. And the way her green, green eyes glaze, the way she moves, it's all so intoxicating. You should have given her a try when you had the chance -"

"Shut your mouth, you shit," grated the redhead, breeze moving his hair, the kanji on his forehead bathed in sweat.

Orochimaru only moved in closer, their noses almost touching. "Doesn't it just tear you up inside that you're a weak fool now, and all because of _her_?" His eyes flicked to the girl, who was watching them with dull eyes. And as Gaara's eyes followed his, finally resting on the girl, he shoved him back and let the dagger fly.

He knew the sand would move fast enough to block the sharp weapon and protect her, but the dismayed and horrified look on Gaara's normally impassive face was entirely worth it and just too good to pass up.

What he didn't expect was Gaara to not even move. He hadn't thought that the boy would instead pull out another knife and jerk it into his arm without effortlessly. His Sharingan red-gold eyes narrowed. It was surprising, really, that his guard was so relaxed around the supposedly weaker fighter that he had allowed himself to be stabbed. Seems like he would have to stop playing around now.

Just as soon as he pulled the other two knives out of his chest. Just as soon as the sand stopped closing about him. Just as soon as he cleared his mouth of the cloying particles, as soon as he cleared them from his lungs and ears and eyes and nose.

Funny. He wouldn't have ever guessed that he could fall so easily. He hadn't even got to use the Uchiha clan's blood limit on the Sand-nin yet.

His sand-laden eyes flared vivid red with the Sharingan as he peered through the chaos. His opponent looked much different, now. His skin was encased in hard sand, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Demonic, was the word his mind managed to dig up. Shukaku on the loose.

And then the coffin was complete, and he knew no more.

* * *

He clawed frantically at the earth, hunched on his elbows and knees, heaving and gasping for breath. Shukaku ran rampant inside his mind, relishing in the destruction it had already caused, vying for control. 

_No, no, no, no, no, no!_ He clenched his jaw so hard that a tooth in the back of his mouth might have chipped.

Bit by bit, the sand armor fell away from him, leaving his flesh itchy; as it was each time he shed the second skin. His head hurt, but he was in control now. He didn't look over to the sand-encased lump nearby, instead turning his gaze to the tree at the other end of the rise.

She still sat under it, but had regained enough of her bearings that her pants were pulled up, loose and unfastened due to the missing button. Her fingers shook horribly while she tried to button her black shirt. Her eyes were locked somewhere to her right, staring out into the blue sky.

She turned those dull eyes on him when he appeared in front of her, taking her hands and moving them so he could fix her shirt. He had barely made it halfway up the row of buttons before his head dropped onto her shoulder. He let it stay there, nose brushing her collarbone. He pulled in a shuddering breath. All Orochimaru's taunts came back to haunt him, and he realized and conceded to the fact that they weren't taunts at all; they were truths; they were simple statements of undeniable facts.

Her voice was a whisper when she finally spoke. "He's dead, isn't he?" He had a feeling that she wasn't talking about Orochimaru.

He felt the wetness falling onto his hands, which were still clutching her shirt. She let the true tears come, let the sobs wrack her battered frame violently. Her misery was tangible and very, very contagious, Gaara observed after a moment. He let her cry on him, let her slim arms go about him and let her press her face into his aching chest, let her gain what comfort she could.

Gods knew it would be the first, last and only time he'd allow it.

* * *

_Dear me. Orochi-kins is so naughty. _

_**Jessicalikewhoa**: (I meant to answer this in the last chapter comments, but I forgot 0) Well, they interacted a bit in this one...but the, ahem, '__good stuff' will be next chapter! _

_**Hao'sAnjul**: Kakashi came across as protective? I guess, after all - he was her teacher for a while. Though, I was just trying to write them having a friendly conversation; I didn't think about Kakashi worrying about her being with Gaara. Hm. Interesting way to look at it..._

_ That's it for now, guys. See you all later, I'll be back to upload the next chapter to TYFA when I finish it off. _

_Hmpf. I'm bored. Sombody tell me a joke involving Gaara, a squirrel and a muffin. _


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**_ And so, we have come to the end, my friends. My warmest gratitude to you all._

_Here's the quote that not only inspired the feeling behind this chapter, but also the title: _

_"We're taught to be individualistic monsters. We're driven by society to separate ourselves from each other. That's not right. We may be connected together far more intimately than we realize."_

_

* * *

_

Sakura didn't remember much from the return trip. She had lain limply in the circle of Gaara's arms, feet brushing the rock wall lightly as he maneuvered down the rocky pathway. He hadn't said a word to her since before they had split up, but she recalled feeling very safe against him. He had smelled like dust and blood.

Once they made it back into the city, she remembered being handed off, albeit reluctantly, to not one, but two pairs of waiting arms. She caught a flash of gold and silver. There was a short exchange of speech, and then a familiar voice rose in anger… and tears. Later on, she found out that it had been Kakashi and Naruto. They, upon finding out _just_ what her Sand mission entailed, had fled from Konoha, against orders, to find her. They had known that if Sasuke were there, he would seek her out immediately.

She didn't know how they got back to Konohagakure so quickly, but they did, and she was again passed into other arms, those of the Hokage. As the story was exchanged, she thought she had felt the woman's chest shaking with either suppressed sobs or anger. Maybe both.

And the last thing she remembered was being taken home, placed in her bed by none other than her silver-haired sensei. He pulled the sheets up around her, and sat on the edge of her bed. Tenderly, his hand came forward and stroked the hair back from her face, then moved back to his own and pulled down the mask.

She'd seen his face before, once or twice, by accident or otherwise, but was touched all the same by his gesture. He made sure that she saw his soft smile before he kissed her forehead. He touched her face again, acting the part of the father and the friend and the protector all at once. He waited until she had fallen asleep, hand holding hers, thumb stroking lightly at her palm, until she fell asleep.

* * *

It was deathly quiet in her apartment. Sakura guessed that her friends had been told to leave her be for a while, only Tsunade stopping by to heal any damage done, and Naruto. His eyes had looked swollen when they met hers, and he had swallowed deeply, electric blue gaze looking suspiciously wet suddenly. She had drawn him into her home and her embrace, both perching on her couch and not letting go of one another for a long, long time. 

She frowned over a cup of coffee. It was during quiet times like these that she missed her parents the most. They had been dead some years, her mother, crushed under the garden wall during Orochimaru's invasion, and her father had gone on an A-rank mission and not come back.

Orochimaru. She could think about him now, without it hurting And…Sasuke, too.

Uchiha Sasuke's body didn't get a public funeral. Maybe if it hadn't been too late and he had died as himself, he might have. But as it was, he got nothing more than a plain grave in the ground, his clan symbol and name engraved into the rock, surrounded by his kin. The dark-haired boy's name whose body had been stolen did not get carved onto the memorial. She couldn't find a good reason to argue against this. Maybe she just didn't care.

Or maybe she cared too much.

The rebellion in Sand quickly deflated without its mastermind to lead them. The former Kazekage's children were all accounted for except for one. The little girl was given a lovely funeral, all her remaining siblings and relatives gathering about her casket.

Sakura was due to start work again in two days. She really didn't want to wait. Irately, she shoved the mug into the sink and began scrubbing at the dishes. She didn't know where this unexpected bout of anger came from, but she embraced it, feeding her frustration into her hands and nearly scrubbing the pattern off one of her plates.

_Treating me like an invalid is what they're all doing! I mean, he didn't even _do anything_ to me…I don't need to be babied!_ When she nearly skewered her hand on a fork, she made herself calm down. _Now I'm just being a brat,_ she admitted at length.

She finished the dishes and moved from the kitchen, meandering into the living room and dropping into a chair. She plucked a book from the shelf behind it and made an attempt to pick up where she had left off.

She must have reread the same line several times before she fell asleep.

The first day back at work was refreshing, a wonderful change to the monotony her life had become in the last week alone. She treated patients, some she knew and greeted with light conversation or a happy smile. Her coworkers knew nothing about the incident in Sand, and for that she was extremely grateful. She put on a face and made up a story for them, telling it to each who asked with diligence and ease.

She spent her evenings training, determined to make up for lost time and to prove to everyone that she was all right.

She was heading home when her stomach finally decided to chime in with all the other aches and pains of her body. His rumbled loud enough for a woman passing by to hear, who stifled a giggle. Sakura grinned bemusedly, patting her middle and changing course to the nearest food stall.

"Long time no see, Sakura-san," called Ossan as she ducked under the hanging sign at the Ichiraku's entrance. She nodded, and he turned to put together her dinner. She moved and sat at the very end of the counter, sitting on the stood sideways so that she could lean her back on the wall.

She watched people passing the open front of the shop, eyes following their movements from left to right, right to left, stopping when they stopped, changing direction when they did. A familiar figure shuffled into her line of vision, and stopped halfway across the opening, obviously sensing her gaze. He turned into the shop, greeted Ossan and sat down beside her.

"Hey," he spoke.

"Mm."

Sakura knew he wanted to ask her how she was, but didn't want to provoke her wrath. He was bound to know her better than anyone, he'd been her teacher for many years, and he should be able to tell what would change her moods. He pushed his hair back, scanning the enlarged menu on the wall.

"How long are you going to be home?" She chose the break the silence that had grown.

He shrugged. "A while. Hokage-sama says that I haven't been able to enjoy being home lately. She gave me a little vacation."

Sakura suddenly laughed, spitting out noodle that had been in her mouth. "What's this? Hatake Kakashi, on vacation? Stop the presses!" He smiled gratefully as her giggling continued. Either she was putting up a strong front, or she really was better than everyone thought she was. He liked to think that it was the latter.

Their banter continued through dinner, both greatly enjoying the other's company, catching up on events they had missed over the past few months. When they were finished, he walked her home, putting down, in good humor, her playful attempts to get him to sneak her into a bar.

She bid him goodnight with a soft 'thank you'. He smiled, and made for the trek home, jamming his hands in his pockets, and ambling off, slouching. She watched him until he was out of sight.

After Sakura kicked off her shoes, she shuffled towards the bathroom, intent on a shower. She halted as she felt something loose and grainy between her toes. Sand. _Pretty clean sand_, she noted while she gazed downward, wiggling her toes. _Not the stuff you get off the ground…more like the stuff you'd see hanging around – _

"Gaara?" She dug her toes into the sand then pulled them out, padding softly to the living room. "You here?" Further inspection revealed that he was not within the confines of her small flat. Strolling slowly into her bedroom, she moved to the window, opening it and peering at the building where she knew his apartment to be. She wasn't sure where exactly it was, but it seemed that every window was dark. The rooftop was empty, as well.

Frowning, she closed her window, forwent the shower, and instead slipped into bed. When she woke in the morning, the sand settled in her foyer was gone.

* * *

"Hey, hey, Sakura-chan!" 

She turned, pink hair falling into her face. When she brushed it back, Naruto stood in front of her; jounin vest slung over one shoulder. "Hey," she smiled, "You just get back?"

"Nah. Been home a few hours already. I just had to stop for ramen first." His whisker marks moved as his cheeks puffed from his ear-to-ear smile in response to her laugh. Of course Naruto would spend nearly five months away from home and then drop by the Ichiraku first thing upon his return.

She finished stocking the cabinet with medical supplies. Naruto gladly accepted her offer to go back to the Ichiraku and grab another bite to eat.

It was close to midnight by the time Sakura finally stumbled into her apartment. While she and Naruto had been eating, a crowd of older shinobi had showed up, ranging from teachers, like Asuma and Kurenai, to mission-takers, like Genma. They had all squeezed into one big booth and enjoyed the company. Sakura bantered on and off with Genma, who, true to his fashion, had attempted to pick her up. He took her gentle refusal with a wink and a smile, opting instead to sneak her a couple drinks.

Sakura discovered that her tolerance was pretty low. Only a few beers and she was a a trifle tipsy. Nothing wrong with her head, but her coordination was shot. She regretted it – she'd have to use a special jutsu to flush the alcohol from her system before even considering going to work the next day.

She shuffled into the living room, groping for the remote lying on the couch's end table. Fingers seeking the power button, she flopped onto the couch. It took her muggy senses a moment to register that the couch was not supposed to be warm, and the spring in the seat wasn't digging into her side like usual.

With a squeal, she jerked backwards so hard that she landed right on the floor, elbow cracking painfully on the coffee table. Or would have, if not for the hands that shot out and caught her about the upper arms.

She opened her mouth to yell, but one of the hands released her and covered her mouth. Frantically, she bit down. A hiss was all the warning she had before she was tossed on the couch and lights flicked on. Her mouth opened and floundered for a moment.

"Gaara!" He was standing a few feet away, fingers dropping from the light switch, hand coming up to eye level to inspect the damage. "Oh, sorry! But you scared the living hell out of me…" He was frowning, and she mirrored the expression. "Wait. How did you get in here in the first place?"

He ignored her, sucking blood off his hand where she had broken skin. "About time you got home. Thought I was going to have to wait all damn night."

Sakura sat up on the couch. "You were here once before, weren't you?" She stood, wobbling slightly, and leaned against the arm of the couch. She folded her arms and stared, expecting an answer.

His eyes met hers, and she grew irritated at the stubbornness in them. _You'd think I asked him to tell me his darkest secret,_ she fumed. _I just want to know why the hell he's been sneaking into my house!_

"Well?" He kept staring. She marched, a little steadier than before, up to him and prodded his chest. "I've got every right to know why you've been breaking into _my_ home!" He huffed and broke the eye contact. Growling, she rammed a fist into his arm. It didn't have any force behind it. Boy, was her coordination _really_ shot.

Her light blow seemed to set him into motion. The look in his eyes turned to an angry one. His hand captured her wrist in a tight enough grip that it was uncomfortable. "Hey – ow!" She tried to yank her wrist away. He tightened his fingers.

"Why?"

She looked up sharply, and his eyes were on hers and he was too close and she was drowning, in them, in him. "Why, what?" His stare bored into her, and she was suddenly shivering.

"Why are you so weak?" He hissed suddenly, and the hand holding her wrist suddenly pulled her hand, loosening the fist and pressing it to his chest. Her eyes widened as she felt his accelerated heart rate. It was pounding against her palm. And before she could open her mouth to reply to his insult, he was speaking again.

"Why? Tell me. Why do you make _me_ so weak?"

Her breath caught, then started again. _What is he…I don't…_

There was a whirlwind in his eyes, and she couldn't look away. His face lowered close to her own. "You make me weak. I hate you. I wish you were gone. Dead. Rotting in the ground somewhere. Out of my sight means out of my mind." His face inched closer, his breath slipped over her lips, warming them. Her trembling increased tenfold. She felt warm suddenly.

"Is this love?"

She barely caught his strained whisper. The thundering in her chest was too loud. Her mouth dropped open as his lips brushed hers.

He pulled away very slowly. She finally noticed that she was pressed almost flush against him, and that he was trembling, too. His eyes looked pained and confused and exhilarated and angry all at once.

"W-what?"

His other hand came up and pressed hers firmer against his chest. "_You do this to me,"_ his voice grated through clenched teeth. His heart was practically bursting now. He looked scared.

_Hm. Gaara of the Desert. Scared. I'd laugh if this weren't so serious._

His fingers brushed across her cheek, fluttering onto her jaw. His other hand left hers and traced along her ear, finally winding through her hair, stroking the soft, petal-pink strands. Without realizing it, she leaned into his touch. When she finally noticed, she decided that she didn't mind one bit.

And she also didn't mind when he leaned in again, when his lips once more touched hers. In fact, she found herself tipping her head up to meet him. Her hand, no longer pinned by his, moved up and slipped to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair that fell there.

When they finally separated, she grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her chest, laying it just above the swell of her breast. "And _you_," she panted, "do this to _me_." He swallowed, licked his lips.

Then his mouth was on hers again, fingers burying deep into her hair. His tongue touched the seam of her lips, and she opened them to him. Both her arms wrapped around his neck, and she blearily thought, with a mental laugh, that it was _Gaara_ touching her so closely – _Gaara_ – possibly _the_ most anti-touch person she knew. Then all thought was lost when he did something, _oh something_, with his tongue that made her toes curl and her grip tighten.

They pulled apart, flushed and breathing heavily. She smiled at him, and he nuzzled her cheek before burying his nose in her hair. She was pleased to feel his smile against her neck. She'd bet anything that it wasn't the cool, calm smirk that he usually gave her.

Gently, she let him go and took his hand. His eyes flitted up to hers, and she made sure he saw not only the smile in them, but also the smoke and embers. "C'mon," she mumbled, tugging lightly. His fingers caught her chin and he kissed her soundly, making her belly heat and her fingers clench on his. When he pulled back, she could see the same smoke and fire in his eyes that she knew were in hers.

Her bedroom was dark and cool, only lit by the streetlight filtering through the thin cotton curtains. Her bed creaked lightly as she sat on it, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he unbuckled the sand gourd from his back and kicked off his shoes.

He came towards her slowly, eyes seeking hers as his fingers did. She took his hand again and lightly caressed his fingers, urging him to sit with her. The bed dipped lightly under his added weight, and the springs squeaked again. Her hand moved his hair back from his brow, tracing the strokes to the kanji tattooed there. His eyes closed, and he leaned into her touch, finally moving forward so far that his head was pillowed in the crook of her neck. His hand grasped hers and his thumb ran lightly over her palm.

_So gentle,_ thought Sakura with a sigh. _I'll bet I'm one of the very few people who have seen him like this._

His head finally tilted back up, and she moved to take his lips. They shared short kisses, playfully melding together, falling back onto the bed. Eventually Gaara grew tired with the game, and his mouth on hers was harder, heated, demanding more. She was inclined to agree.

Tongue tangling with his as her limbs did, they struggled to remove clothing. His touches were a little inexperienced, but passion fueled, rough in some places and soft in others. Her fingers fumbled on the ties to his pants when his dipped into the heating space between her legs. She gasped and tensed. His fingers paused and she bit her lip hard. Something unpleasant had flashed in her mind as she had felt the first brush of his fingers. No one had touched her _there_ since…

Very suddenly, his eyes were boring into hers, two shades of green meeting and locking. "I'm not him, Sakura." His breath blew across her skin, his tongue handling her name in a way that made her shiver, regardless of her momentary hesitation. His hand drew back a fraction, leaving her warmth, but still lingering about the inside of her thigh. "Say the word and I'll stop, but say it now. I don't think I'll be able to stop if you tell me to later." His strained voice, gritted teeth and furrowed brow left her with no possibility of doubting him.

His fingers were back, lightly tracing her. She bucked against him as he experimentally moved them about about. Thought patterns dissolved and formed, molding erratically. Through the haze, she did manage to get it through; he had spoken truthfully. He wasn't Orochimaru; he was doing this only with her consent. And as they managed to piece together more coherent thought, she knew that she was ready for this. She'd had plenty of time to heal. Any more, and she'd start growing mold. Her hands began working on his clothing again. She didn't see his grin, but felt him speed up his fingers. Eventually, she had loosened the waist of his pants to retaliate, relishing in the breath that hissed out of him at her first hesitant touch.

Their hands traced and touched, memorizing and making note of what made the other do what. She found that if she trailed her fingers a certain way along the base of his spine, he jerked against her, moaning. Likewise, he discovered that the insides of her thighs were ticklish.

The touches grew rougher and rougher, and, gasping, he attempted to turn her around, fingers gliding along her, testing how ready she was. Panting, she cast him a slightly frightened, questioning glance over her shoulder. He made his intentions known by grinding her bottom back against his pelvis.

Writhing, she managed to choke out a "no", trying to distance herself.

His eyes flashed dangerously, and the moment she regained a back-to-the-mattress position, he was on her, pinning her down, hands holding her beside her head. He was close to snarling. She felt the heaviness of dread in her stomach; passion had allowed her to forget how dangerous a man Gaara was. She fumbled with an explination.

"N-not…not like that," she gasped out, squirming against him, half in fear and half in pleasure. "F-face-to-face. I want to see you. Please, Gaara…"

He relaxed against her, lifting his weight off slightly. She sat up and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth and running it along his. Coaxing gently, she got him to slowly lower himself to lie between her thighs. Then he was probing again, fingers pressing and rubbing against her slick folds. Her head tossed from side to side, pink hair flying.

He was pressing something else against her seconds later, sliding it into her easily and quickly, and she gasped at the sudden feeling. It didn't hurt, but she wasn't sure what to do; should she cry or moan or stay silent? When he first started thrusting into her, she decided that she didn't really know if she liked it or not. A few strokes later, and she was calling his name in throaty, disjointed syllables.

The tightening in her belly increased with each thrust. Her legs twitched, then finally settled for wrapping around his waist. Her back arched off the bed, arms pulled his chest flush to hers. His mouth devoured hers. She came hard, muscles spasming around him, clenching tight, so tight, and she heard him moan deeply, nearly loosing himself.

When Sakura opened her eyes, he was still moving, his eyes locked onto hers, his mouth hanging slack. Her passage was even more sensitive now, and she vocalized a string of whimpery moans, biting her lip and bucking.

"_Look at what you do to me!_" he hissed, engulfing her in a kiss, sucking her lip hard, then biting it gently.

His measured tempo turned into erratic bucking and jerking. Sweat stood out in a sheen on their bodies. The air was heavy with heat and musk Gaara's eyes slipped closed, and Sakura traced the coal-black smudges with her thumbs before dropping her arms. Watching him straining and shaking above her, looking so open and warm and unlike the person she knew he would still be when this was all over made her heart clench and her lips turn up in a smile.

He'll still be a jerk, but now I'll have some power over him… 

She'd have power all right; she could tell that she wouldn't be able to live without this now that she had it, and from the looks of things, neither would he.

All thought broke into a million pieces as she came again. He thrust hard, twice, then, his entire body clenching, finally found his own release. Moaning, he went limp and laid down against her, tucking his head into the valley between her breasts. His red hair tickled her chin. Her fingers stroked lightly over his sweaty back.

She smiled wider.

* * *

Sunlight hit her full force in the face, and she started awake. The open window allowed a warm breeze to move the curtains about. Sakura stretched, and grinned when the arm around her waist tightened. 

She turned her gaze to Gaara, loving the peaceful, contemplative look that hung about his usually cold and aloof face. She knew he hadn't been sleeping – Shukaku would cause problems if he did, he'd told her once – and her grin widened even more.

"Been watching me sleep?" He rumbled in response and ran a hand through his hair. "Stalker."

"I don't think you mind," he replied.

In reply, she turned fully to press the length of her body along his, and kissed him long and deep. "What, again, woman?" He let himself grin when she pulled back.

She stuck her tongue out and made a face. "You've got terrible morning breath."

"And you're horribly grouchy in the morning."

As she lost herself in the sheets and his arms and his kiss, she vaguely recalled that someone had said the same thing to her once before.

* * *

_And...viola. It's over. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. All that's left is waiting for randomsome1 to read it and give me a after-initial-post BETA-ing. She's already pointed out so much that I goofed with, so I'm going to get my butt into gear and edit things at some point or another.  
_

_**ASweetKissFromPoisonedLips**: Yeah, you got it down alright. Sasuke'd been gone from his body for a while. And, as you can see, Gaara was just being a litlte dramatic when he thought it would be the last time he let her get close. ;-)  
_

_**Jokester**: O-O OMG YES. Your joke had me snickering in demented glee._

_ And to everyone else who gave me the requested joke - thanks. They were just what I needed. _

_ Thank you so very much for sticking with me and reading this, whether or not you gave me feedback. I appreciate it all the same. I love each and every one of you. _

_ Until next time._


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